Emerald Strings

Filthy Redhead

Sunghoon’s nostrils flared as her words hit a nerve. His tone grew colder. “Ego? Let me tell you something, little girl. No one has ever dared to speak to me the way you are right now. If you knew who you were talking to...”

“Oh, please!” she interrupted, throwing her hands in the air. “There it is again! This ‘if you knew who I was’ nonsense. Guess what? I don’t care who you are. You could be the king of the world for all I care, and I’d still call you out for being an arrogant jerk.”

He stared at her, utterly taken aback. Nobody... nobodyhad ever spoken to him like this. His life had always been one of control and respect, where people feared him or at least pretended to. But this girl, with her fiery hair and sharp tongue, was treating him like… like he was ordinary.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “but you’d better watch how you speak to me.”

Aaira laughed, the sound loud and unapologetic. “And I don’t know who you think *you* are, but here’s a newsflash: the world doesn’t revolve around you. Get over yourself.”

The two of them glared at each other, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Neither was willing to back down.

“No one has ever dared to shout at me like this,” Sunghoon said finally, his voice a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“Yeah? Well, no one’s ever dared to be such a pompous ass to me,” Aaira shot back. “Congratulations, you’re the first.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. Instead, he studied her, taking in the defiance in her eyes, the way she stood her ground despite his imposing demeanor.

“Do you even know how ridiculous you sound right now?” he asked finally, his tone laced with mockery. “Shouting in the middle of Times Square like some… some...”

“Some what?” she challenged, crossing her arms. “Go ahead, say it. I’m dying to hear what other insults you’ve got.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“And you’re unbearable,” she retorted without missing a beat.

They stood there for a few moments, glaring at each other, the world around them moving as if on fast-forward while they were stuck in a slow-motion battle of wills.

Finally, Sunghoon exhaled sharply and stepped back, straightening his coat. “This isn’t worth my time,” he said coolly, his tone dismissive.

“Good,” Aaira snapped. “Then why don’t you go find someone else to boss around? I’m sure there’s a line of people just waiting to kiss your feet.”

He turned to leave, but her parting words made him pause. “And by the way,” she called after him, “if you ever bump into someone again, maybe try saying ‘sorry’ instead of acting like the world owes you something.”

Sunghoon’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, but he didn’t turn back. As he walked away, he couldn’t help but feel an unfamiliar sensation gnawing at him. It wasn’t anger or even humiliation, it was curiosity. Who was this girl? And why did her words affect him so much?

***

Sunghoon stormed into a dimly lit restaurant near Times Square, his long Chester coat billowing behind him as he walked briskly to a secluded corner table. The cozy, upscale atmosphere did little to calm the firestorm brewing inside him. He tugged at the collar of his coat before sliding into the booth, muttering under his breath.